


Boy On Fire

by caprisunkiri



Series: Oh Captain, My Captain (The Daichi-Centric Series) [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blow Jobs, Bottom Hinata Shouyou, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Foot Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Smut, Top Sawamura Daichi, almost, kabedon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 11:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27969707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprisunkiri/pseuds/caprisunkiri
Summary: Daichi tries his hardest not to lose himself in those chocolate-colored eyes. He spent so much time, so much damn time, far away in college, forcing the honey swirls and high-pitched laughter out his head, just for him to come back home and fall just as hard as he did three years ago.But, he reminds himself. No matter how old Hinata will get, he’ll always be too young.“Where do you want to go, then?”Hinata's grown up a lot.A plush pink bottom lip disappears behind a pearly white before sliding back out, slick with spit. Daichi shivers. Hinata hums to himself before pulling the noirette behind a tree via his dress shirt. Not like anyone can see them anyway; it’s almost eleven pm and no one is around. “Here is fine.”Hinata’s voice sounds funny—full of curious, childish concern, but laced with something deeper. Headier.ORWhen Daichi struggles to see Hinata more than a kid, even though his body is so ready to jump the gun, it hurts—but once the dam has been broken, there's no turning back, and once Hinata gets down on his knees and begs, Daichi finds himself bending the roles a little. Just this once.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Sawamura Daichi
Series: Oh Captain, My Captain (The Daichi-Centric Series) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034142
Comments: 10
Kudos: 130





	Boy On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> thinking of part two...thoughts? also, come hang out with me on wattpad @caprisunkiri. I swear I actually write stories, lol. 
> 
> here's your fucking filth.

“Daichi, wait!”

The carrot haired boy runs after him, stumbling over his built but long limbs like a baby giraffe learning how to walk. His satchel and black jacket flapping in the wind and everything. Daichi freezes. As Hinata runs his way, the back of his brain can’t help but point out the way Hinata’s shoulders broadened, the amount of muscle he’s put on since he’s seen him last, and the fact that he's actually grown an inch or two. But he shouldn’t focus on that too much, should he?

They meet in the middle, Hinata with all his chaotic energy and Daichi with all his burning want hiding under a cool and calm exterior. Kind of.

“I have—“ the carrot head takes a big gulp of air to catch his breath, “—a question.”

Daichi tries his hardest not to lose himself in those chocolate-colored eyes. He spent so much time, so much _damn time_ far, far away in college, trying to get honey swirls and high-pitched laughter out his head; just for him to come back home for a _moment_ and fall just as hard as he did three years ago.

But, he reminds himself. No matter how old Hinata will get, he’ll always be _too young._

“What’s up?” He offers, because he’s weak for the carrot head anyway, and gestures to the park bench as if to ask: _W_ _ill this take a while?_

Hinata shakes his head, batting at the air as he suddenly folds in on himself, shyly speaking to his feet and messing with the tips of his fingers, “It—it’s kind of private.”

Daichi blinks. Not because he needs to—but because if he doesn’t, he worries his active imagination might screw him and his black skinny jeans over. (Which was a mistake on his part. To think he’s strong enough to resist Hinata’s siren call is folly.)

“Where do you want to go, then?”

Hinata's grown up a lot.

Hinata’s plush pink bottom lip disappears behind a pearly white before sliding back out, slick with spit. Daichi shivers. The carrot head hums to himself before pulling the noirette behind a tree via his dress shirt. Not like anyone can see them anyway; it’s almost eleven pm and no one is around. “Here is fine.”

Hinata’s voice sounds funny—full of curious, childish concern, but laced with something deeper. _Headier_.

Daichi doesn’t say anything else, simply gives Hinata the time and space to say what needs to, watching impatiently as the words keep getting caught in the redhead's throat. Giving Daichi too much time to examine his new and improved curves up close, nearly giving himself a heart attack _and_ a boner. How disappointing would that funeral be? He lived as he died, horny.

“Ah, this is so embarrassing,” Hinata huffs, face as red as a baboon's ass as he hides it with two open palms.

Hinata. _Their_ loud, little giant. Embarrassed.

_What could he possibly want?_

“U-Uh,” his adam's apple bobs, pale skin glowing silver under the moonlight. Next thing the noirette knows, there’s a gust of wind **,** and he’s pinned to the tree, Hinata looking up at him with those big round eyes he always does. For the fifth time today, he mentally curses whoever made skinny jeans so damn skinny.

“Please give me your body for the night!”

A beat. (Or two, because Daichi’s soul has to leave and then _re-enter_ his body before he can speak again.)

_“Huh?”_

“I—o-oh geez, um,” Hinata looks down at their feet before looking Daichi in the eyes with the same fire he always has, “I leave for college soon!”

“You do,” Daichi lamely confirms.

That’s why he’s here in the first place. Why they’re all there in the first place. His eyes shift across the street, where the guts of Ukai’s Sakanoshita Storeare uncharacteristically painted in blue and pink lights, the bass still rattling the cheap windows. Two chalkboard signs stand in front of the entrance. _SORRY, SHOPS CLOSED, and_ ** _CONGRATS ON GRADUATING!_**

A small voice in the back of Daichi’s head whispers, _do it, do it now, when he has the chance._ But the other half remembers fifteen-year-old Shouyou Hinata, who stood on knobby knees and had a mouth much too big for his size. The messy, fiery-haired kid who wore t-shirts two sizes too big every day and always came to school out of breath, glossed in a steady thin layer of sweat from the trek over.

The Hinata in front of him _now_ drives a Volvo V60 and has a daily full-body workout regimen. He drinks alcohol with the boys unbeknownst to his parents, and lets Tanaka hotbox his car on weekends. (All of this, according to Kageyama. Daichi spent most of the dinner _avoiding_ Hinata, just for him to stumble out before Daichi got on the bus.)

“So…” Hinata trails, gaze unfocused, “I…I gotta have sex, right?”

Oh.

_Oh._

A shiver runs down Daichi’s spine, goosebumps rising, and suddenly, he’s hyperaware of how cold it is. In a flash, his body says _fuck yes,_ but his head says _fuck no._

“Be—because y-you’ve had sex _,_ and so has Tanaka, and Tsukishima, _and_ Kage—“

The ex-captain shakes his head, blinking doubly fast just in case, “Hinata, you don’t _need_ to have, uh, _it_ , just ‘cause—“

“And even Yamaguchi’s had sex! Like, am I _that_ far behind?!”

Daichi rolls his eyes, running an exhausted hand over his face. To think he got _excited_. Shame on him. He places a gentle and grounding hand on Hinata’s shoulder, “Hinata. You don’t—you _shouldn’t_ try to have sex with people just because you ‘feel behind.’ Your virginity is a precious thing you shouldn’t…just… _give it away_ like its candy.”

Hinata blinks up with a flame burning behind his eyes, “But I’m _ready_ to have sex!”

“Okay, can you—just,” Daichi hopes Hinata can’t see the beet red glow on his face, “stop saying… _that…_ ”

“What?” The carrot head asks, all loud-mouthed and wide-eyed. Some things never change. “Sex?”

“Yes!” Daichi hisses, lifting a finger to his mouth, “ _sex_.”

“But why?” His hair bounces when he cocks his head to the side, like when a dog hears a whistle, and Daichi exhales through his nose.

_“Because.”_

“I don’t hear a valid reason.”

The noirette huffs, knocking the back of his head against the tree trunk to get his shit in check. Since when has Hinata become so difficult? _Goddammit,_ he just wants to go to his hotel room and watch cartoons with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of whiskey and forget this whole day even happened.

Forget that Hinata _could_ be his. Hell, here they are right now, the boy on fire throwing his virginity on the table, practically shoving it into Daichi’s arms. But Daichi can barely look at it; he doesn’t just _want_ Hinata’s body. He wants all of him.

And he knows the carrot-head just _doesn’t_ feel the same. 

“Just— _no,_ Hinata,” he hates the way Hinata’s arms recoils. Like he’s been burnt by a hotstove, or like he’s stuck his hand in something he didn’t mean to. “I—didn’t mean it like that, it’s—“

“No, it’s fine,” the carrot-head gives him that stupid small smile that never quite reaches his eyes, the fire in him snuffed with a fire extinguisher, because _no,_ it’s not fine, but Hinata keeps shaking his head like he’s got water stuck in it. “I—I really shouldn’t have...”

…But Daichi can’t let him go home like _this._ Get shipped off to some college God knows where and never see him again, their last interaction being this shit show of a conversation. As a friend and as a _captain,_ Daichi can’t let that happen.

“Hinata, I didn’t mean it like that,” he manages to pull himself together, just this once, to place a gentle hand on the younger’s shoulder. He tries not to think about how much it’s filled out over the years, “I meant you should wait for someone special. Someone you _want_ to give it to.”

“But I _do!”_ He flails, throwing both hands into the twenty-year-olds chest, “I want _you!_ Stop treating me like a child, I've been eighteen for a while, and l wouldn’t just _ask_ some rando on the street for their dick, y’know!”

Daichi flushes all the way down to his neck as the words soak in through his pores like a sponge, scratching the back of his neck, “I—o-oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” The boy on fire huffs, arms crossing over his chest. Daichi feels his skin crawl, but in the best way, as Hinata’s arms return to their previous kabedon position.

“So?” The carrot head asks, batting those big butterfly lashes, “What’d ya say?”

And, well. Daichi _should_ give Hinata an evening to remember, right?

Daichi’s bare back hits the pillows with a heavy thump, and Hinata wastes no time in letting his hands roam, open palms tracing the expanse of his chest with the occasional flick of a nipple. The noirette moans into Hinata’s mouth, who eagerly swallows the sound, pulling away to bite Daichi’s lower lip. He rises with a satisfied smile, “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Daichi snorts, rolling his eyes before running a hand through his hair just in case it’s as messy as he feels like it is, “Your first impression?”

“Kissing doesn’t feel like I thought it would,” Hinata reappears above him, shirtless with the yellow bulb behind him highlighting a halo of stray hairs. He places both arms on either side of Daichi’s broad shoulders, thumb landing on the noirette’s bottom lip, “You’re bleeding.”

Daichi raises an eyebrow. He struggles to find how Hinata can be calm through all of this, especially when he, the _non-virgin,_ is sweating a Nile river in his high school friend'sbed. Or whatever they are. Daichi almost his mouth to respond but holds back when he sees Hinata looking down on him with his eyes blown out, pupils the size of saucers, and chest heaving. Just like earlier, his tongue runs over that bottom lip, dripping with drool, and Hinata looks nothing but _hungry._

The thumb sitting on his lip swipes right. He watches Hinata shake himself out of his aroused stupor like a wet dog, though the big black pupils remain.

“Teach me how to suck your cock? Please?”

Daichi can’t do anything except blink up at Hinata and blush, “I—yeah, yeah, okay.”

It sounds like he’s preparing himself more than anything else, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the pulse of pleasure that wracks his spine when Hinata scoots him towards the end of the bed before settling on the floor, head between Daichi’s thighs. He blinks up with thick and curly eyelashes and gauzy eyes; a look the noirette’s only seen in his subconscious, an image he tries to suppress. And fucking _look at it,_ right in his lap and mocking. Merry fucking Christmas.

Daichi doesn’t realize Hinata’s waiting for instructions until the younger starts to claw at his belt himself. He unbuttons, unzips, and yanks Daichi’s jeans off in three surprisingly quick swipes, and before he knows it, Daichi’s clad in nothing but boxers—Hinata fully dressed—and trying his hardest not to bust a nut right then and there.

“Take it out,” Daichi instructs, albeit shakily. Hinata does, with a smile growing when his cock emerges with a _pop._ Hard and red and leaking, the carrot head licks his lips hungrily. “Okay, so now you kinda—“

He hisses when Hinata decides he’s going to take the initiative, probably out of impatience, giving the head of Daichi’s cock tentative kitty licks as his hand wraps around the base of his cock to hold it in place. Hinata’s got surprisingly long fingers for his height. Long fingers that are great for volleyball. As well as other things.

“L-Lick—” Daichi has to clear his throat, voice wobbly, “—lick from the base to the-to the—“ Hinata’s tongue flattens on the underside of his cock, and the noirette actually shudders.

So what if he’s been a little pent up lately?

So what if the fact that this is _Hinata Shoyou_ between his fucking legs makes him more than rock hard?

So what if Daichi feels like he’s about to pass out?

As he talks, Hinata does; like a fucked up game of Simon Says, “Swirl your tongue at the tip and then go— _oh fuck, yeah, that’s good_.”

He can’t deny the way his stomach _clenches_ as Hinata’s eyes flutter shut to take almost all of him, and the hand holding his cock starts to pump what he can’t fit. His mouth feels like it’s on fire in the best way possible. Daichi groans, hands fisting the sheets, “Good boy, okay, now come back…u-up…”

Hinata hollows his cheeks and _sucks,_ pulling every ounce of blood in Daichi’s body to the tip of his cock and, frankly, his soul as well. The carrot head drops his head back down and falls into a steady rhythm: rise and fall, rise and fall, rise an—

“Ooh, no teeth, no teeth, no teeth,” Daichi gentle eases Hinata off his cock, both of them trembling for different reasons. The carrot head coughs and splutters to his right, an arrow of guilt striking the noirette right in the gut after Hinata looks back up at him, tears swimming in a sea ofcopper **.** ****

“You don’t have to keep going,” Daichi offers when the younger readies himself in front of his cock again. “We can move on.”

Hinata looks up at him with a scowl that looks vaguely like Kageyama’s, “I don’t half-ass,” he growls— _hotly—_ before sinking back down and resuming from where he left off. And Daichi has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from coming on the spot because the Hinata he knows (knew?) doesn’t curse.

A muffled “mph!” falls from Hinata’s lips when he feels the ball of Daichi’s foot roll over the head of his cock. The noirette can’t stop the small infernalsmile from creeping across his face when Hinata’s eyes flutter, prettily hips rolling into his foot unabashed. Suddenly, an idea pops into his head.

“Such a filthy slut,” he growls, threading his hands through Hinata’s hair to speed up the process. The carrot head moans into his cock, pulling another shudder from Daichi, and the ex volleyball captain begins to slowly rock his cock down Hinata’s throat himself. “Taking my cock like a goddamnchamp, huh?”

Keeping eye contact, the carrot head moans again, wrapping both arms around Daichi’s leg. “Look at you, humping my leg like a dog,” he spits, hating the rush the power gives him when Kurasuno’s littlegiantruts against his foot like there’s no tomorrow, drool spilling from the corners of his boiling hot mouth and slobbering messily all over his cock.

“Good boy,” Daichi praises, his thrusts into Hinata’s mouth, gaining speedas he feels the familiar coil in his gut pull tight. He barely notices the way Hinata doesn’t choke, too busy rolling in his own pleasure, but _oh, when he does—_ “Good boy, good boy, good boy, _fuck—“_

The noirette’s body tenses as he spillsdown the carrot heads throat. Hinata takes it like a damn champ, swallowing down every bit before pulling off Daichi’s cock with a pop.

Daichi collapses into the bed, boneless, “Holy shit,” he laughs heartily from his chest, straight towards the ceiling. Legs and arms still buzzing, he plans to lift his head once his breath catches up, but Hinata pops up into his line of vision again, face and shoulders flushed strawberry pink. Daichi lifts a hand to thumb off the drop of cum on his lip before it hits the mattress with a _thump_ yet again. “You are—that _mouth—_ “

Hinata’s very, _very_ plush ass grinds against his cock, and Daichi sits up as straight as a beanpole, hands bracing themselves around Hinata’s hips, “No— _no, Hinata,_ I just fuckin’—“

“Wanna make you do it again,” the carrot head dips his head to lick a long, fat stripe, tracing the vein on the side of Daichi’s neck as his hips continue their rhythm—sinfully. Hinata lifts his head; bottom lip poked out so far Daichi wants to bite it. With his long, butterfly lashes and wet eyes, he rubs his thighs together, “Plus…you promise me you’d show me how to have sex.”

Oh _fuck._

_What kind of sex demon did he create?_


End file.
